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Naomi Banker, the resident vibrational therapist, asks Quinn to look into an intellectual property rights claim. The request seems innocent enough - but boring. Things soon spice up when Quinn discovers that Naomi was romantically linked to Glenda's murdered husband. Soon, more bodies start to surface and like it or not, Quinn finds herself caught in a whirlwind of broken hearts and private alliances, all while trying to manage a few special secrets of her own. She’s convinced of Naomi's innocence and starts to dig for answers. But if she's not careful, she'll end up being added to the body count.
Enjoy an Excerpt:
“That went well,” I teased. Jack and I stood on the front lawn of his mother’s home. He rocked back and forth on his heels, a sheepish grin brightening his tan face. The tension that had hardened his shoulders earlier was gone.
“I don’t regret holding back our news,” he said, “but I understand their disappointment.” Taking the edge of my jacket and drawing me closer, he confessed, “Call it selfish, but I liked having you all to myself for a while. Now that Emma knows we’re official, she’s going to drag you from one end of Kentucky to the next. When the baby comes it’s going to be impossible to keep those two ladies back.”
“I know, but we’ve been planning to have this conversation for weeks, even before we found out about the baby.”
“Do you wish we’d done things differently?” He lowered his head to gaze deeper into my eyes. “That you’d had the pretty gown? Family and friends.”
“Absolutely not. I can’t imagine a more magical moment than our wedding day and I wouldn’t have wanted anything different.”
While his mother and T-Lynn were overjoyed to hear our good news, their delight had turned to irritation. We’d left them out of one of the most significant moments of our lives. Not only had we gotten married without them, we’d been living with the secret for months.
Emma had planned her son’s wedding since birth, expecting him to marry at the house and fill their massive lawn with tents for hundreds of guests. She wanted to plan engagement parties and bridal teas. She wanted to shut down the hussies at the country club when she sat me beside her and she wanted to see their salty faces when they realized her Jack wouldn’t be marrying any of their daughters.
Jack rubbed his derriere where T-Lynn had given him an old-fashioned slap on the ass. “Vegas, Jack! You took her to Vegas? Of all the places in the world to get married, that’s where you took Quinn?” She’d pressed her fingers to her temples and sighed. “I pray that Elvis wasn’t your officiant and Marilyn Monroe wasn’t a witness.”
The truth was that we were married in the Valley of Fire at sunset. I don’t remember the heat, though Jack says it was sweltering. I don’t remember details like the red sand dunes or the ancient Indian petroglyphs. The only thing I remember with absolute clarity was the way Jack looked at me when we exchanged our vows. I remember feeling a sense of love and yearning for him so strong and full, it felt like my heart would burst. And I remember that when Jack kissed me, after we’d been announced man and wife, the taste of him was so wonderful that it eclipsed anything that had ever given me pleasure before.
I lifted on the tips of my toes when Jack leaned in to kiss me. Just inches from my embrace, he asked, “So, you want to tell me why you were late? And don’t give me that story again about checking on your client’s case.”
“Geez, that’s right.” I’d almost forgotten. “I was with Naomi.”
“The crystal lady?” he asked.
“You taking her case?”
About the Author: K. S. David lives in the Mid-Atlantic with her husband, their three children and a menagerie of pets. New storylines are constantly running through her head. She keeps notebooks tucked in pockets of the car, the nightstand and makes voice recordings just about all day long. She's addicted to true life mysteries and crime shows, both of which marry well with a great romance. Some of her favorite things are long walks, reading in bed, baking and of course, writing her next novel.
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